Forgiveness
by Pascal in Quebec
Summary: ELF! season 1; end of the episode "Brothers and Sisters"; When Bridger decides to make of spectacle of his power and authority over Lucas by publicly punishing him, Lucas was humiliated to no ends. Westphalen tried to make things worse. She did. For everybody. That left an unprotected Lucas no choice but to defend himself publicly or face more humiliating, injurious punishments.
1. Chapter 1

The author wishes to express thanks to anyone who may read his story and encourages them to leave reviews, comments or even flame it hard. As with any who try their hand at publicly expressing an idea or story concept, all feedback is important and welcome.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own SeaQuest, Star Wars, nor any other sci-fi or fantasy series, movies, comics, cartoons or news items used in this fiction as they belong to the creators or broadcasters or publishers who put them out for consumption by the public.

 **SeaQuest**

 **LONG ABSTRACT:**

This story takes place in **season 1** , just at the end of the episode " **Brothers and Sisters** " when Bridger decides to make of spectacle of his power and authority over Lucas by publicly announcing he was punishing him, in front of a reporter and live camera no less. At that point Lucas was humiliated to no ends but still ready to quietly accept the sentence honestly if it made the angry man back down. However, Westphalen being the angry rabid bitch that she always was thought she had the right to interfere and be her usual toxic, detrimental self at the expense of the young man. Everything went bad from there and blood was spilled before the light of truth shone at the end.

 **UNLIKE MY OTHER STORY** , " _Justice for Lucas_ ", this has absolutely no psionics, magicks or time engines involved even if such things were part & parcel of the SeaQuest canon in all three seasons.

PS; I like flames, they're fun to read so don't hesitate to write them.

 **WARNING** ; the language level of this one is not too particularly trashy when we consider a story based on boats and sailors. However, as I always warn people who read my work: this language was pretty much normal in the school yard 30 years ago when I was a teenager. So, how can you have such a thin skin and be part of the same culture on the same continent if this is really that offensive to you? Where did you spend the last few decades, if you can't take a few hard words from the mouths of kids when these words have been around since before World War I?

 **HARSH WARNING** ; this fiction will mercilessly shred and burn the concepts so cherished by cultists and apostolates of every sect: blind obedience, dominance, submissiveness, punishment as being equal to or above discipline as a whole and the obligation for the victims to forgive the clerics and adults who harm them.

 **RELIGION AND BIGOTRY** are two sides of the same toxic coin and I refuse to be an apologist of either, I will not even tolerate them the least little bit. This so called " _season of family and togetherness_ " is based on a 2,000 year old lie that has spawned many horrors, monsters and destroyers of families and children. I see yet again the _sluts-of-the-pews_ whelming themselves to pour poison on all our souls and I myself am moved to react. If the prostitutes of the ecclesiastes have the right to publish their church pamphlets pushing violence, injustice, lies, spurious abuse of authority and child-beating on us free of any constraints or fear of legal reprisals, then so do I have the right to counter-write the denunciations that these trashy toilet-paper sheets deserve. Freedom of Expression goes both ways and REALITY will burn out the FALSE TRUTH of sects at every occasion.

 **FORGIVENESS**

 **The Powerful punish because nobody can stop them;**

 **The Weak forgive because it's all the Powerful allow them to do**

 **CHAPTER 1; THE HIDDEN REALITIES**

 **RETURNING TO THE SHIP**

 _(SeaQuest – season 1 – opening theme)_

 **Wednesday 25th of March, 2020; 15:29pm**

 **SeaQuest DVS 6000, UEO flagship, sea-deck, near moonpool**

 **North of the Australian coastline**

They had finally made it out of the old munitions depot and not fifteen minutes later it had sheared off the side of the underwater canyon where it had endured for nearly twenty five years. The massive steel construct had ripped off its moorings like a band-aid off an injury; quickly, painfully and messily. The people in the shuttles actually heard some of the tortured noises that the struts made as they bent, warped and finally splintered, letting the metal orb tumble loosely until it was picked up by the harsh currents of the trench. The depot was carried over five miles before it plunged to the bottom of the trench, some 15,000 feet beneath the waves. Everybody held a silent breath, in remembrance of the bones of the dead parents that had still been aboard the habitat. The children were alive and safe, that was all that mattered and yet, to some, it now didn't seem as if it was enough.

Captain Nathan Bridger felt two distinct emotions simmering inside his soul as the three shuttles ( _3! Fucking! Shuttles!_ ) came back from their hair-raising mission. There was an almighty sigh of relief that the important, vital part had been a success: the children were all accounted and safe, even his miscreant teenaged mutineer. The other emotion was that he was mad. No, too low. Angry. No, not enough. Wrath. That was it, yes. Bridger was feeling an all-encompassing Wrath at the entire mess this simple routine mission had become. They were supposed to pick up some people and baggage's then ferry them to land; something they had done dozens of times without incident. How the Hell did it turn out this way?

Teenagers could be and were hardheaded on the best of days. He had slowly deluded himself into thinking otherwise because Lucas was normally in his daily activities and relations such a shy, peaceful and helpful presence. The young man was not only a genius and prodigy of many technological fields; he was also the sort of person who bound others around him with respect and friendship given freely. That's why it was so easy to forget his age: he acted so maturely and amicably 99% of the time and performed the tasks given to him faster with better results than the adults around at each and every job he was ordered to accomplish. Never once had Nathan been disappointed in his professional performances. On the personality side, however…

Also, there were very few people that Lucas genuinely disliked and avoided; a few had bullied him so harshly that he had retaliated by injuring them back. He manipulated the computers that regulate the temperature of the water in the shower halls so as to chill unto illness about a dozen crew who promptly stopped being detrimental to the rest of the community. The warning had been there in front of him but Nathan had ignored it.

The CHILD thought he knew better than adults and thought that he had the position and right to make decisions above adults! He, a mere minor-aged CHILD had judged unworthy and PUNISHED members of the community who were ADULTS and thus above him in life and society! He even had the gall to think he could second-guess the very captain and go scott-free with his pasty white hide intact! What the fuck had they been thinking to let this happen for so long unchallenged?

Well, not any more! Nathan would show him who The REAL MAN BEFORE CHRIST THEIR GOD and His Faith was, and he would make the smarmy little runt regret his arrogant, self-centered ways! This comeuppance to his spoiled ego was going to be a lesson he would remember for the rest of his days!

 **A SMALL LIGHT IN THE STORM**

 _(SeaQuest – season 1 – opening theme)_

 **Wednesday 25th of March, 2020; 15:32pm**

 **SeaQuest DVS 6000, UEO flagship, sea-deck, near moonpool**

 **North of the Australian coastline**

As the procedure to park the MR shuttles was completed, the crew in his ride left the older mariner to exit first. He was still wearing his dress uniform with cap and sword. Neither of the four crewmen really understood why as they hadn't been in the habitat when Bridger made his silly little presentation with raised sword and military pomp. They would ask the guys from commander Ford's group when they were away from the officers. At least one of the others was bound to have had his PAL filming the scene; it would be worth a few comments in the privacy of somebody's dormitory at that point.

Nathan was still simmering, restraining his Wrath badly when he climbed the ladder up to the control hub of the parking silos. He saw that the other two shuttles had already parked and disembarked their passengers as they held the children and that was the absolute priority. He himself had told the pilots of the other two vehicles to go inside the ship ahead of his transport. Seeing that those minimal orders had been followed began releasing some of the pressure from his mind and the Wrath simmered less.

Then he saw the one thing that he needed to understand what had really gone on in the head of his youngest crewman. Lucas was kneeling on both knees with an arm around Cleo and her baby sibling on one side and around Zach on the other as both were sitting on a coil of underwater power cable. Nathan was too far away and the hub too noisy with a swarm of people to understand the sounds but he could read lips better than people who grew up deaf thanks to some CIA training in his early career.

Lucas was telling the two teens he was half-hugging that he was relieved their family had not exploded and self-destroyed like his own had eight years ago. He wished them good, happy, long years together from now on. He promised them his help and even spoke about his small company that made the gaseous holographic displays. He promised to try and give them jobs from his own manufacture to help them settle or at least write letters of reference for a few companies where his word was good.

Nathan rocked back on his heels, flabbergasted at the sheer amount of selflessness that his favorite teenager was pouring out of his wounded heart. The injuries from the nasty divorce, his mother legally disowning him in public, and then his father abandoning him for years before dumping him aboard SeaQuest… And still, after all that, the boy thought of others before himself.

Nathan felt the Wrath inside lower to just plain old parental anger. Something he could much better handle and was an old acquaintance of his, as any parent or tutor of teenagers would tell you. This cast a very different perspective on the situation. It hadn't been a joy ride or the flimsy promises of cheap sex from a girl that made Lucas act against orders and basic common sense. It was a vision of Morality not so different from Bridger himself, just untempered by navy training with years of loss and pain.

 **MUSINGS BASED ON FALSE TRUTHS**

 _(SeaQuest – season 1 – opening theme)_

 **Wednesday 25th of March, 2020; 15:43pm**

 **SeaQuest DVS 6000, UEO flagship; several corridors**

 **North of the Australian coastline**

The captain made a silent retreat towards his cabin, pausing long enough to gesture at Ford and Crocker to accompany him along the way. As the three men moved out of the control hub, they heard the shrill, shrewish tones of Kristen Westphalen shouting across the compartment, laying into Lucas as if he had committed sacrificial murder on the altar of a dark god. Bridger winced as a headache began manifesting behind his left ear. He wasn't at peace enough to feel remorse at leaving the boy in the clutches of the angry doctor but had enough experience to know that she was among the few people Lucas would actively fight and even injure if she pushed too far. Things would only get worse from here on out.

The woman had little sense of propriety despite all her claims of upper breeding and pedigree. She had little respect for anybody's personal space and had several times tried to bully her way into Lucas's cabin to tell him how to live his life on the simple account that he was a CHILD and she was an ADULT and that gave her AUTHORITY over his body and his mind. **She was right of course** , but try telling such a basic thing to a genius boy who thought he knew better. He even thought that the HUMAN LAW gave him protections against the woman's interventions in his life! What a sick joke that was! As if a CHILD could push out and deny such a considerate motherly woman and the CREED of the FAITH would support that? Those damned liberal laws maybe, but not the ONE, TRUE LAW.

The last time such a conflict happened two weeks ago had been a public mess that Nathan had not been able to calm down or keep quietly inside the boat as he normally did. His usual policy of telling the boy to " **man up and shut up, the ADULT had spoken and was right anyways** " had backfired like never before in his life. Lucas had actually used his personal lawyers, _another sick twisted thing he had to tolerate_ , to write, notarize and file charges against the female doctor for harassment, bullying, verbal aggression, threats of physical harm and attempt to access private classified data from his ongoing projects. He then filed charges against Bridger on counts of not restraining the doctor from harassing people, failing to intervene in the escalating fight and supporting the illegal bullying and intimidation of Westphalen against him. Copies of the charges were even sent to Lawrence Wolenczak & attorneys, the US President, the UEO secretary-general Andrea Dre's cabinet and twenty-seven different Intelligence Agencies of the USA, Canada, Britain, France and Germany. Damn the scurvy dog for telling tales out of the house!

Nathan was still beyond _seeing-red_ upset that the CHILD thought he had the right to accuse an ADULT while under his AUTHORITY and WATCH but knew the charges weren't a joke to be ignored anymore. He had received four days ago an official written and notarized confirmation from New Cape Quest and the Pentagon that a multi-agency investigation into Westphalen's attempt to instigate a climate of favor-based management in the science departments while terrorizing Lucas into submissiveness had been formally initiated. People outside the ship would be actively trying to find the problems that Nathan had managed to hide from the US Navy's inspector a few weeks back and now he no longer had any favors he could use to shield the mercurial woman. He might even have trouble himself, the way the charges and investigation were going.

The captain mulled that situation between the teen and doctor with a wince of guilt. Yes, he thought honestly and openly that Lucas, as a minor CHILD, had limited rights and an even more limited place in society despite all the important **adult-level work, sometimes classified** , that he had ordered him to do despite not having a real job, position or title, and certainly no pay for all he did. Nathan saw it like an UNPAID INTERNSHIP combined to a good old paternalistic HAZING RITUAL from his own youth. The young have to endure the whims of the old until they had proven to the elders that they could be patient enough to accomplish serious tasks despite the **clearly abusive and humiliating** situations they were made to suffer through. It was an old, instinctive way of their American culture, especially in the high risk domains like the military, to haze and test the resilience of the newbies to know what kind of material you will have to work with. Nathan was proud of his own hazing at the Naval Academy and aboard his first ship posting.

He could not understand how someone like his teenaged DISCIPLE could fail to grasp the situation or its cultural validity. Note that small details like **LEGALITY** and **HUMAN LAW** would never manage to make Bridger think he was wrong or out of bounds. As proof of this:

-) **The US Congress abolished in 1862 all types of corporal punishments** related but not limited to whipping, flogging, caning, colting, and bastinado as well as any marking with irons, forcible tattooing and any such punishment that causes injuries or damages to the body of the inmate.

-) **In 1979, the US Supreme Court decided that it was illegal to use ANY of the Armed Services of America as an orphanage, a youth reformatory** or for any judge of any jurisdiction to tell a convict to choose between jail and military service with a minimum mandatory amount of years just as if it were his prison term. The Supreme Court stated that it was against the basic principles of " **Volunteerism** " fundamental to the Services; that it was tantamount to " **slavery** " and was an untenable crossover of Military and Civilian powers and fields of authority.

-) **Hazing has been declared outlawed in the US Armed services since the late 1980's** and were made illegal in the UEO Services at the initial writing of the Alliance Charter.

Nathan Hale Bridger with his 44 years of naval service, a veteran captain, naval architect and marine biologist in FOUR different military organizations (USA, NATO, UNO, and UEO) knew these three laws well. It was a basal requirement of his function, position, rank and security clearance to know all this clearly and intimately. He could not have achieved his job if he had not passed the written examinations and knowledge tests imposed by the **Captaincy Promotion Board**. In fact, you could not go above mere 1st class crewman if you didn't know and understand these laws.

It's just that Nathan _didn't give a damn about the Human Laws_ , not when CHRISTIAN FAITH and CHURCH DOCTRINE told him otherwise and gave him the MORAL GROUND to stand on to defy the adversity that came in the form of lawyers, humanists, children's rights advocates, reporters and anything else. He was a MAN before GOD his CHRIST the REDEMPTOR and would endure and thrive and eventually RULE by His Book and Rod as was Scriptured in Faith and Creed.

Unfortunately, the situation with Lucas was touchy and fraught with idiotic pitfalls that could have been avoided if only his stupid parents hadn't abandoned him so young before any basal education about society and Faith could be started. Then those stupid bleeding heart liberal colleges, reputed for turning out weak minded, weak bodied kids, had gotten their mitts on him before Bridger did.

Well then, Lucas would just have to have things spelled out for him so he could fall in line obediently and rescind his _stupidly complaints_ against the adults. He would need to learn to put his welfare and life in the hands of Bridger, even though Nathan had never taken a side or intervened to stop the woman from harassing the teen. And why should he stop her anyways? She was a fine, superb woman, loyal and fierce if you knew how to handle the high-strung type. And Nathan had always enjoyed the challenges brought by women of character, driven by lofty ambitions.

The boy would just have to learn his place as a Godly Boy in a real true American Boyhood as was the CREED and FAITH of their GOD and his CHURCH. It was in fact well passed time for Nathan to start training some CATHECHISM, MORALITY and FAITH on this boy to undo the crap he mis-learned around Stanford and turn him back unto the righteous path of their CREATOR's LIGHT.

HALLELUJAH! AMEN!

 **UNLAWFUL ORDERS**

 _(SeaQuest – season 1 – opening theme)_

 **Wednesday 25th of March, 2020; 15:58pm**

 **SeaQuest DVS 6000, UEO flagship; captain's cabin**

 **North of the Australian coastline**

Nathan took off the dress white jacket and cap to dump them unceremoniously on the couch before going to his desk chair to pick up his regular blue day-jacket he had worn this morning before everything went haywire. He studiously ignored Ford who stood at attention before the desk and Gator who had gone to seat himself in the second couch that backed against the outer hull, under the view port.

The commander was fidgeting and pursing his lips in an attempt to keep quiet until his superior spoke his piece. Any newbie fresh from boot camp could tell you the elder mariner was angry enough to spit tacks and Jonathan was not interested in serving as the dartboard of the day.

Manilow folded his hands over his ample paunch and let out a deep breath of relief while also waiting for Bridger to say his piece. Unlike Ford however, he knew his old academy buddy well enough to know that he'd have to temper the man's actions, maybe even yank him back in line of the Law since he had well known tendencies to fly off the handle and go along with _the little stories in his head_ instead of following the Protocols and Laws accepted by society.

Nathan hadn't earned the nickname ' _Maverick of the seas_ ' as a mark of respect, far from it. He was known as hotheaded, temperamental, aggressive and prone to fits of _doggish_ attitude that made him sound like a mutt that barks and tries to hump anything in sight to prove its maleness and dominance. Nathan's wife Carol had put up with the man for the sake of their son Robert until he reached 18 years old and joined the Naval Academy, then she separated but did not divorce. Since she lived on the island and he was always on the road for the Pentagon or finishing the SeaQuest, nobody knew any better.

Manilow Crocker did know, as well as the why.

Nathan was to put it mildly, unstable and unreliable as a parent. He tended to go with the ' _boys will be boys_ ' attitude until something dark triggered in his head and then he turned into a cheap botched replica of his misbegotten monster of a father: an angry, vengeful, wrathful beast prone to lashing out and hurting those around him. In such a mood he would hit with hands, fists, feet, belts, electric cords, breadboard, wooden spoon, metal ruler… Anything simple and easy to just grab and use against someone to scare and hurt them into immediate submission.

Carol had to take Robert to the hospital on many occasions, marked by the furious fists and lashings of his out-of-control father who took refuge in BIBLE verses and RELIGIOUS lies to deflect his criminal attacks on his young son. He cited repeatedly that " _He who loves his son taketh the rod of correction to him_ " and " _The rod beateth the devil of foolishness from the child's heart_ ". At two distinct events Robert wound up with a broken leg that nobody could explain. Nathan Bridger's close relationship to Bill Noyce and his church-group saw those accusations and any doubts swept under the rug and forgotten.

Carol was glad to see Robert leave, for her own sake as well as his. Nathan was harsh and unstable when sober. Unfortunately, he had started drinking heavily when Robert was just 7 years old and he was a mean cruel bastard when he was drunk. The only respite he gave his family was when he drank enough to blackout and sleep for twenty-odd hours.

Crocker glanced sideways at the man as he finished redressing in his regular day clothes and wondered about him. The two deaths of his son and wife less than a year apart had hit him hard and sent him into a self-destructive spiral of drunkenness and self-neglect. Then about three years ago he had sobered up, done a thorough clean-out of his house and the small island around it all the way to the waterline. Nathan had told him back then during one of their monthly phone calls that he had re-found JESUS as his PERSONNAL SAVIOR. Supposedly, after he had accepted and repented his shame and culpability towards his family, he had slowly restarted everything in his life from scratch.

Manilow was afraid of what his friend of forty years had truly become in those last three years.

He could smell the stench of the manipulations from Noyce and his group of church-whores around the situation and was afraid that they were pushing Nathan into something that would eventually destroy him for good. William Boyd Noyce was not in any ways a decent character and nobody with two functioning neurons to rub together would ever trust the bastard. For some miracle of darkness that only God and the Devil knew of, Nathan trusted Bill Noyce more than he ever trusted his wife and son or anybody else in his birth family. Noyce's church, _or cult or sect or whatever they actually were_ , had been instrumental in driving a wedge between Nathan and his brother before he died of pancreatic cancer twenty years ago. Bridger's nephew and nieces never forgave him and his sister-in-law refused to this day to acknowledge him as family anymore.

Crocker snorted audibly in contempt at the scene before his old weathered eyes.

Ford was almost wetting himself in glee at the chance to ask for punishments or some smidgeon of ill-gained additional power over Lucas without having any idea of what kind of monster he was asking favors from. Nathan was a territorial, possessive animal and would never tolerate that Lucas acknowledge anybody but himself as the TOP DOG in his life. Ford would make his suggestions / requests and get rebuffed crassly, in a ham-fisted way that only Nathan thought was all right to use with coworkers and subordinates. The more he aged the more uncouth and ill-mannered the rude, ill-bred cur became. Just like his father and grand-father before him; both had been religious zealots who drank their families into ruin, destitution and oblivion before they were finally dumped and forgotten by the few surviving relatives they had at the time of their deaths.

Manilow shook his head despondently, waiting for the fireworks that would erupt as his friend sunk lower into violence and emotional instability towards Lucas, the whole situation and everything else in his life. What a bloody waste of a good man with an exceptional mind this all was.

Now seated in his well padded desk chair, the captain adjusted his shirt cuffs and asked in a low, toneless voice that seemed uninterested at all "Go ahead, commander, get it off your chest before you explode." He even made a small inviting gesture with his hand but did not actually look at the black male, instead concentrating on searching the surface of his desk for something.

Ford took in a breath and began, trying to keep his voice level and calm but failing rapidly as he got excited and lost himself to his rant. "We have to do something about this captain! The smarmy little brat stole a shuttle, went off-ship without permission, shut off the comms in the middle of an operation, interfered in a military operation in progress, got several people's lives in jeopardy and I'm probably not half done listing everything he actually did that was wrong and constitutes an actual punishable crime under the **Uniform Code of Conduct**! We can't let it pass anymore! He has to be **punished hard enough to leave marks** on his pasty hide! I know we can't keep him out of the computers and systems because people on the mainland will start asking where he is and what state he's in, but he doesn't need to sit on his ass to do these jobs! A good butt whooppin like my grandma dished out when I was young would see him walk the tight and narrow line from now on and never deviate from it again!" Ford finished his rant, panting hard and sweating all over as if he'd just run a mile. He was also practically glowing at the thought of the humiliation, pain and put-down the stupid, useless brat would get to experience.

Crocker sniffed derisively behind the commander's back. The fact Ford thought of Lucas as ' _stupid, useless and a burden_ ' while at the same time admitting they could not run half the systems without him aboard was just another proof that he was a bigoted, self-deluded fool who should never have had any power over the child. Even Nathan Bridger in the depth of his anger, and having his own deeply incrusted ageist bigotry in consideration, could see plainly that Ford was not thinking properly about the consequences of harming the boy beyond a certain point. Lucas was a rarity in the Navy: a truly competent person with many specializations at the same time but without the damaging arrogance that people usually exhibited in that situation. It was imperative that any corrective measures not change his attitude that much or in the wrong places otherwise he would become unusable in Noyce's plans. For all that he liked and appreciated Kristen Westphalen as a woman and colleague of science, he had no choice but to acknowledge that she had a damned god-complex and was far more arrogant and spoiled than Lucas ever was. Despite her many competencies, she was unsuitable for the plans Bill had shared with him, especially as they were focused on cybernetics, not medicine.

But try telling fine details of future plans like those to Jonathan Ford and obtain a rational response just to see if you can… Anything centered on Lucas, his capacities or work product would be laughed at and decried as idiocy in progress. Ford will never accept that Lucas could be useful enough or reliable enough to elaborate and base plans upon. That conversation was both a dead-end and a non-starter when Ford was involved. On top of things, Ford had a deeply rooted, personal irrational despise against Lucas that came out of… Nobody was sure where it came… Nathan didn't know and could not figure it out. None of the other officers aboard knew either. But Jonathan had it bad and it colored every decision and relation he had with the adolescent, even when the young man did his work better, faster and more professionally than all the others who had been given the same job to do. Where Lucas was concerned, there was no contenting Jonathan Ford at all.

Bridger raised his eyes to glare at Ford hard enough to scare the man into backing away from the desk a half-pace in surprise at being the recipient of such a furious stare. What could he have done?

"Let me make something clear, commander." The veteran mariner began "Lucas Andrew Wolenczak is my **WARD** under **JUVENILE FOSTERING** , not a civilian contractor or military crewman. The military code of law does not apply to him. Is this clear?" he asked in frigid tones that sent a shiver of dread down the tall athletic man's spine. Seeing Ford nod he continued in less stringent ones "The child has disobeyed and acted both illegally and idiotically under my watch; he will be punished for it. By ME, no one else. YOU will do nothing to him nor ask or delegate anyone else aboard or try anything against MY boy. Is this clear?"

Now that commander Ford had seen the line in the sand, Bridger relaxed in his chair, leaning backwards with an indolent look on his face. He didn't seem as rabidly angry as he had when coming out of the shuttle back from the depot and the Ex-O was intrigued by this. Hearing the question asked by his first officer, Nathan chuckled and recounted what he had lip-read in the control hub.

The three officers stayed silent for about a minute when Jonathan stated "I appreciate the reasons that he had, sir. It's way better than why I thought he had done the whole mess and I actually feel better about the situation than when I thought he'd just given up on trying to humor us about the regs and protocols. I know he's a civilian and doesn't even have a contract or a salary, but there's a limit to tolerating his attitude and conduct. Since you specified that he is in fact your WARD, not an employee of the ship or UEO as such, I'm willing to let this in your hands. For now. But I'm not impressed, sir. On any other ship, the captain would have had enough presence, authority and leadership over his crew that such an event would never have happened at all. Civilian or not, child or not, that he is your WARD or not, he still committed a jailable offence and I still feel like he's getting away with it."

Crocker saw his old friend's face become closed off, his lips pursing and his fists clenching on the armrests of the chair. A small vein that Manilow knew well began pulsating on Nathan's neck, indicating full well just how riled up he now was. "I assure you commander" Nathan spoke in slow, measured words "that Lucas will not get away with the actual disobedience nor the insolence that was at the base of it. He has thought himself better than a mere under-age child for too long and I plan to change that back to how it's supposed to be. **He will know his place as an inferior to every adult aboard, from the Captain down to the floor sweepers** , or else he will be locked in solitary, in the actual brig, on short rations and receive daily spankings of my belt until he gets the message. I will not tolerate that a CHILD attempt to go above his place in society and life and try to judge adults or second guess them as if he had a right to do so. Do you understand your place in this, commander?"

Ford nodded emphatically at his superior's declaration. The image of Lucas finally, at long last, getting pulled back and forcibly set back into inferiority at the tip of a belt was all good for him. Even if he didn't get the pleasure of seeing it happening, just knowing was enough. Ford remembered some of the stories told by Robert when they were at the academy; Bridger was no soft handed wimp when it came to squeezing contrition, repentance and genuine remorse out of a rebellious kid. Wolenczak would finally stop being such a waste of space and start earning his place, at the bottom of the ladder as everybody's little pain-bitch, just the way it should have been from the get go. Just like Jonathan himself had to endure when he got in the navy at 18 like everybody else. A good bout of painful punishments done publicly and some heavy-handed hazing would set the kid straight and harden the faggotted little queer into something that could maybe pass as a sailor at some point when he turned 24 or 26 years old. Certainly not before, not if Ford had any say in this!

"Natey, you a dang _gone-in-t'a-head_ fool, you fool!" Crocker exclaimed from his couch, stunning Ford out of his prurient dreams and forcing Bridger to deal with what he had hoped to avoid. "Lucas is a smart kid with a kind soul and a gentle disposition that would'na hurt a fly on his wall! And you plan to take advantage of that to break him and exploit him like some toy to play with and put in the closet when you tire of him! Admit it! If t'a dumb whining bitch Westy and this big lout weren't a cryin' their eyes out about it you would'na said anything by yourself! This is just like Robert all over again! Carol knew what you were, Robert knew it damn well in his own flesh and none of your brother's kids and their kids want anything to do with you! Do you truly believe that I don't know why that is? You ain't gonna beat and damage Lucas like you did Robbie back twenty years ago! I'll stand up t'a ya this time and I won't be alone! There's a limit to what Billy Noyce and his church-whores can do to protect you if ya get a kid's blood and misery on your hands this time!"

The overweight sailor stood up ponderously and marched heavily towards the desk, hands clasped to his belt near the buckle at the front. He sneered contemptuously at Ford along the way and parked himself right in front of Bridger, an air of barely contained anger hanging thickly about him like the haze of smog over a large city. Pointing an accusatory finger at his old academy buddy, Manilow asked in poisonous tones "What do you plan to do to t'a kid? Tell me now a'fore I wallop it out of you with my belt! Lets see if YOU like a taste of the buckle the same way you wanna give Luke as if he were some ill-bred mule! Talk, I said, cuz the health of yo skin depends on it!"

Ford sprang up incensed, ready to defend the captain just as he was completely dumbstruck to see the still angry man seem to sink into his chair in fear of the rabid chief of security like never before. Jonathan was about to open his mouth and bark out an order at the senior lieutenant to stand down and mind his station in the chain of command when the entire left side of his face exploded in stars and misery harshly enough to pivot his whole head and upper torso to the right. After about four seconds of blinking his eyes and massaging the side of his head, the commander straightened to the sight of Crocker flexing his large beefy left hand, the leather of the glove creaking menacingly.

The chief of security had backhanded the Executive-Officer across the face like a misbehaving child.

Ford was at a loss of what to do in that circumstance. He had heard of angry violent superiors hitting the underlings, especially those fresh out of boot camp or the academy, but he'd never, ever heard of a subordinate raising a hand to his superior. Still holding the bruised, painful side of his face the young man looked to his captain for guidance and some inkling of what came next. He really didn't like what he saw on Bridger's face: his entire body language said clearly ' _I'm not the Top Dog in the room anymore_ '.

Crocker looked at Ford with open disgust written all over his face. "Shattap and park yer hide on that there couch mister, while you can still move on your on power! I had it up to my ball cap with your poisonous bitchings about Lucas being too spoiled rotten, too stupid, too useless and too damn young to be allowed to live on his own! Them all lies and we know it so shut yo mouth a'fore I do for you!"

Jonathan moved sideways and slowly sat himself on the couch and then continued moving until he reached the furthest cushion away from Crocker, near the holographic console. He folded his arms over his chest in a protective manner and looked around wildly, wondering what drug Westphalen had put in his morning coffee that he was hallucinating this.

Manilow growled out angrily at both men, his words laced with Wrath and contempt in equal parts and he aimed at both senior officers equally. "I am rightly ashamed of being an officer of the Law aboard this here boat a' cause of you both right now. You have both acted beneath the most minimal standards asked of officers in the Navy and of adult men in society! That stops now!"

Turning to Ford, Manilow pointed a threatening finger right at his face: "And you, you dimwit spawn of a plantation dog! If I hear you badmouth or defamate Lucas again without sterling proof in hand, I be takin' you to the storage hold on deck-E and show you that submarines do indeed come with their own woodsheds, yessiree they do! Is that clear you oversized lummox? If you want to know where my war name 'Gator' came from and how come I still strike fear in this stoopid-assed fool, I can show you!"

Ford's eyes hadn't stopped enlarging all along the vivid, passionate threats that kept coming at him from Crocker's mouth. With eyes the size of dinner plates and fear-induced sweat all over his person, the black male could only nod his head and hope the ship's **Police Commissioner** didn't decide to give him an example of police brutality even worse than the back of his hand. Gulping in anxiety, Ford discretely looked at the man's belt where the handcuffs, electrified nightstick, pulse pistol and can of pepper spray all dangled menacingly while the massive man's gloved hands clenched tightly in silent promise of much pain to come if he tried to resist _the village's po-po_. His grandma had'na raised no buffoon so he wisely agreed to everything said and threatened in absolute silence while promising himself to never again move around the ship without his utility knife and side-arm on his own belt. He also promised himself to review Crocker's service record immediately to see what he had missed about this obese land-whale that made him so damn dangerous even Bridger was now pale and trembling in fear.

Manilow ponderously turned back towards Nathan, pivoting his entire girth slowly and heavily like the main gun turrets on a battleship, all the large caliber barrels lining up for a straight-line broadside against the flimsy target of Bridger's hormone induced, Westphalen-stocked ego. Letting out with enough toxic vitriol of his own to mentally scar both men in the room with him, chief Crocker wasn't taking prisoners anymore. He'd had enough of Jonathan Ford's petty, noisome bickering against the adolescent for no good reason. He'd had more than enough of his old friend's definition of child-discipline, Family Rules and all the race-based, religion-infused miasma of depravity that he called _'Morally Imperative Judgment_ ' against children all around himself. Crocker was fed up and sick of all the mental domination, physical violence and sheer cruelty against all peoples that Nathan learned from Noyce's cult of fools and spread around him in his life.

 **IT ENDED NOW!**

"I am gonna lay down the Law to you Bridger, and you gonna follow it cuz yo worthless hide depend on it! You will call the ship's council into meeting! You will charge Lucas publicly and have a council vote on it! He's a civilian child, not a sailor or a contractor that means the Law is clear on this: it falls to the council to arbitrate and dispose of it, along **UEO Maritime Law**! NOT according to the **FEEL of Bridger's BALLS**! Is that clear you coon-spawned hairless bilge rat? Answer me, damn gone it!"

The captain and supposed master of the ship refused to even glance sideways at his Executive-Officer as he silently nodded, eyes down to the top of his desk. Nathan Trembled in fear as he remembered the last time Gator had been like this with him.

Flashback -

It had been when Robert was 17 years old and had almost suffered his third event with broken limbs at the hands of his father in the guise of ' _Familial Disciplinary Measures_ ' as per the Creed of the Sect that Noyce was a Bishop in. Crocker had come for an impromptu visit at the island and heard from the dock the miserable screams of pain as Nathan was belt-whipping some sense and submissive demeanor into his indocile, rebellious hellion of a runt. As the boy was trying to belly-crawl away from him on the floor, still reeling from the pair of hits on his head with the buckle-end of the belt, Nathan decided it was time for another repeat of the ' **Little Lost Lamb Lesson** ' as was Preached and inscribed in Canon Law of the Congregation.

When the _Little Lamb_ tries to run away or gets lost from the flock, you break its leg and the traumatic vulnerability so created makes the little being even more fragile, fearful and prone to staying near its parents, docile and obedient for fear of being lost again and thus suffering punishment again on top of abandonment. It was Scriptured in the BIBLE and so was HOLY. How can something HOLY cause so much trouble in a man's household that he was forced to hold back from enacting its righteous works until the house is empty so he was unopposed by doubters and heretics?

Nathan had just forcibly turned Robert on his stomach with a few well placed harsh kicks to his ribs and groin thus inciting the youth to reflexively turn on his front to protect his injured parts. Nathan just had to grab the ankle, lift the leg about a foot off ground and then drop his full weight onto his prepared knee, covered for the task in a hard plastic kneepad, into the fragile exposed limb of his child to break it cleanly and set the lesson. _As if the two first times had worked all that well…_

Manilow saw what Nathan was about to do and the very clearly exhibited blue plastic kneepad he had positioned to cause his son grave injury. He instinctively bellowed like an oxen as he bullrushed his old buddy, shoulder leading, into Bridger's exposed flank therefore knocking him a good seven feet away from Robert to land face first into the kitchen's tableware buffet causing all the flatware and glass to fall on top of him. That was just the start. Gator took the entire week-end to slowly punish Nathan for his execrable behavior towards his son. Crocker took all four days of the long holiday to beat, batter, and break Nathan Bridger causing multiple bruised welts, bleeding lesions that would scar for life, two black eyes, a cracked jaw and twice-broken nose along cracks to six bones and actual breaks in nine other bones, especially in the arms.

End of flashback -

Crocker had been clear in his threats. Should Nathan ever again in this life or the next to cause any type of harm or injury to a child, physically or psychologically, then Gator would make certain that he would loose both arms. In small bone bits, just a little piece at a time, while he was awake and aware to feel the torture happening. Nathan swore on his life and soul he would never again do that to any child no matter what the circumstances.

And yet here he was, right in front of Manny, making threats of punishments and violence against Lucas who at 16 was clearly a child, not an adult. He now remembered the events of 16 years ago; all the pain, humiliation and the dreadful hospital stay during which neither Carol, Robert, nor any of his living family visited him. He could now see the cruelties and inhumanities that lay along the Path he had started to tread as he was pushed by the nasty selfishness and bigotry of all sides. Until Manilow Crocker stood up and reminded him of old Sins against the Flesh and Soul of his own son, warning that he would keep his promises, no matter the cost to his own life, job, pension or freedom.

Now that he had been shocked out of his bigotry induced religion empowered haze of anti-child madness, Nathan Bridger could begin to see that he had been dangerously treading down a steep hill that fell away down to an endless chasm of Perdition for himself and the people around him that would be affected. Thankfully (maybe) Manilow had intervened in time and spoken out against the idiotic Wrath that lay simmering inside Bridger's heart. The chief of security's ' _handling_ ' of Jonathan Ford and his now openly shown contempt against the ship's First Mate would have to be reviewed and analyzed with a clear head as it indicated something dark and toxic was brewing inside the Ex-O that needed immediate containment.

Passing both hands over his face in consternation and fatigue, the veteran captain sighed deeply before looking Manilow in the face, trying to convey his sincerity about his decision and intentions towards their youngest crewmember.

"I get your message Gator. I also remember what happened two decades ago on the island. I will put the list of charges before the ship's council and let them arbitrate everything. I will bow to the collective wisdom of the officers and company representatives as to how we handle the boy from then on. If any punishment is given, I will run the proposed sanctions by you before saying it out loud so it doesn't exceed the basic necessities of keeping him healthy and actively present in our community. Should physical punishment be mandated, I will speak of it with you and we will determine the mechanics and manners of it before it is carried out, again with the optic of keeping Lucas healthy and functionnal in our community."

Crocker snorted in disbelief at his old friend's transparent attempts to placate him. It wasn't holding water, that pile of lies, and Manilow was gonna make sure him and the black turdpile behind him new it. Wagging his beefy index finger towards the captain's nose, Gator griped nastily "Now now now Natey my old mate, you weren't gonna try and pull anything dishonest on me, weren't you? Something like packing meaningless charges in the list or trying to overwhelm the kid with completely out-of-this-world bitchcrap only Ford and Westphalen would deem appropriate or germane to the situation, were you?." Crocker's crocodile-like smile showed all his teeth as much as the intent of violence and vengeance he had in store if Nathan did indeed try to pad the complaint sheet in order to exact dangerous punishments or disproportionate restrictions against the young man.

Both Bridger and Ford could only swallow their bile in silent anger; the **village commissioner** had plainly stated that from now on Lucas was ' _protected_ ' by him and so any attempts to injure, harm, imprison or restrain the boy would be met by forcible retaliations from someone for whom violence was his job and a way of life. Neither of the ship's topmost officers had any trouble imagining who would win that confrontation, especially with the complaints against the Doctor being investigated already and more inspectors and auditors coming in the next months on a plethora of other matters.

No, they would not win this fight, and would probably lose the war as well, given that Noyce had plans that specifically called for a teenaged genius that was obedient **BUT** unharmed, healthy and **FULLY** functional in body and mind. NO EXCEPTIONS TOLERATED to those conditions for anybody, not even Bridger's oversized pridefulness. With such lofty goals coming directly from the Head of UEO Fleet Assets, the ship's officers were severely curtailed in what sanctions they could use, even in grounding and restrictions as Noyce had specifically written down the amount of computer use and off-ship network access that was non-limitable so that Lucas could manage to do all his work and reports without raising suspicions anywhere in the governing hierarchy.

 **The boy's presence aboard wasn't at all legal after all.** Thus it was imperative to keep all reports about Lucas and his activities quiet, only letting out the best, most positive reviews of his work and character. Anything else was to be quashed mercilessly, lest **QUESTIONS** be asked that nobody had the ability to answer. **Not legally or morally** , at least.

Now that Nathan thought about it, he had a long, verbose list of THINGS that Noyce had forbidden him from doing or imposing unto the teen that lay unobtrusively in the safe beneath his bunk. The captain realized that he would need to read anew that list lest he and his Ex-O propose something that would see Billy come to the SeaQuest to take over and lay down the Law and Arbitrations himself. THAT would not end well for anybody and the admiral would probably forgive Crocker his mutinous behavior under the judgment that the wide-girthed security officer had in fact protected the safety and operability of Noyce's costliest but most productive asset aboard ship.

Damn! How could the old captain make the two rabid attack dogs Ford and Westphalen see the dangers of the legal, social and hierarchic zone of operations they were in now?

Hearing no rebuttals to his plainly spoken accusations, Crocker looked around the captain's cabin, making eye contact with Ford, easily making the self-imbued wannabe cower in the couch even deeper than before. What a coward! Anyways, his job was done here; he needed to move his considerable weight over to Lucas so he could warn him about just how deep a pit of doo-doo he just fell in. Oh Joy!

Walking silently out of the well appointed quarters, Crocker closed the door behind himself, leaving a spiritually toxic mess and two broken-egoed officers in his wake. Said officers stayed immobile, in anxious silence for almost a quarter hour before Bridger grunted in effort, turning his chair towards the bunk so he could retrieve the damned ' _List of Lucas's upkeep necessities_ ' that Noyce had foisted on him and his crew. That damnable document would become the basis of any discussion and disciplinary actions against the boy, whether they wanted or not. It was also imperative to copy the thing so Ford and Westphalen could read it ahead of the council session so they didn't waste everybody's time by making invalid complaints or asking for punishments specifically prohibited.

Ford would obey as the good soldier he was. The doctor… Damn, that wasn't going to be easy…


	2. Chapter 2

The author wishes to express thanks to anyone who may read his story and encourages them to leave reviews, comments or even flame it hard. As with any who try their hand at publicly expressing an idea or story concept, all feedback is important and welcome.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own SeaQuest, Star Wars, nor any other sci-fi or fantasy series, movies, comics, cartoons or news items used in this fiction as they belong to the creators or broadcasters or publishers who put them out for consumption by the public.

 **SeaQuest**

 **FORGIVENESS**

 **The Powerful punish because nobody can stop them;**

 **The Weak forgive because it's all the Powerful allow them to do**

 **CHAPTER 2; THE PUBLIC SHAMING OF A CHILD**

 _(SeaQuest – season 1 – opening theme)_

 **Wednesday 25th of March, 2020; 16:42pm**

 **SeaQuest DVS 6000, UEO flagship; sea-deck; moonpool**

 **North of the Australian coastline**

It was the public meeting that had been scheduled with the reporter and her cameraman, just as soon as the medics had cleared Zachary for moving around on his own power. The 18 year old had been disgruntled, tetchy and snotty with everybody on board with only three exceptions to date. That those people not subjected to his displeasure were another teen, a dolphin and Ben Krieg was just rubbing the High and Mighty Doctor Westphalen the wrong way.

Okay, on one hand, it confirmed for her that she wasn't the only one to see that Krieg really was so immature as to barely rate the mental state of middle-adolescence on a good day. It was that much won, at least. But that she, the chief of medicine and sciences combined ( _not true; Levine manages medicine but she kept saying she was his superior_ ) was not even rated above the execrable sea mammal was really just a bloody drop too much in the glass.

Nathan would hear of this and apply some much needed corrections upon those three lawless scalawags! It was bad enough that Lucas ran around the boat rampaging like a rutting bull all day long, but to have to tolerate Cleo and Zachary as well! The nerve of those childish pests, thinking they were not answerable to her Adult standing and Authority inside this ship! She would see them cowering under a well-oiled strap, she would! Then they would learn their place in life, at the feet of their betters; namely herself and any she deemed useful in controlling the smarmy little miscreants.

Kristen just hoped that Ford would talk some sense into Bridger about using harder, less compromising methods with their resident juvenile delinquent before the day was out. And those other two could use some heat in their backsides as well, while they had them in hand. Letting them go unchallenged, without any sort of consequence for their idiotic behavior would just encourage them, and Lucas too, to keep on doing such asinine misdemeanors as if they had the right of it.

It was also probably time for her to call admiral Noyce again to complain about how weak-willed and soft-handed Bridger was with Lucas. Her last call had been a fortnight ago when that immature, indocile brat had written up those completely idiotic complaints against her and mailed them all around like confetti in a wedding gala. Another personal reminder would do Noyce good, so that he knew the problems aboard ship were nowhere near settled. And those… those criminally depraved… complaints that Lucas had written about and that imbecilic investigation about her management of her many vitally important departments ( _not true; she only had one_ ) something had to be done to silence that dissention and crush those questions NOW!

The mature woman walked briskly out of her glass-fronted private office to go towards the frontal area of the sea-deck where the part of the moonpool was the furthest from the wall where the Aqua-Tube came into the room. Standing there, milling about contentedly without any visible stress, anxiety or fear were the teens and children rescued from the ill-fated munitions depot. Their erstwhile accomplice in stupidity and criminal mutineering, one chalk-white furless rat called Lucas Andrew Wolenczak, was standing in the middle of the group, almost as if protecting them from the crew and reporter.

As if he was old enough, learned enough or even socially influent and powerful enough to protect anyone or anything! The unfettered nerve of the spoiled, rebellious delinquent! She would show him what Power and Authority were! Just you wait and see!

Now in a fretful huff of indignity and vengeful anger, Kristen Westphalen began plowing her way through the large crowd of about fifty people gathered around the moonpool and its guests. She was half-way there when she spotted two of the men she wanted to speak with to resolve this entire fetid teenaged rebellion to her own satisfaction immediately. Captain Nathan Bridger entered by the left-side doorway of the sea-deck, escorted by the Executive Officer Jonathan Ford. Chief of Security Manilow Crocker was actually already besides Lucas, sitting down on a low wheeled stool that normally served as step-ladder to reach the high cabinets around the outer wall of the sea-deck. Judging by the faces that all three men wore, some nasty, dirty, ill-bred, ill-mannered children were about to receive in full view of the crew, **and the world via the reporter's camera** , a much needed and deserved comeuppance of the ' _Stern_ ' kind. As in their bare ' _stern-quarters_ ' being set righteously ablaze by a good swishy rattan cane, a dozen bleeding strokes per offence at a time! Yes! There would be a lot of bruised, bleeding and well-cut plump teenage rumps for dinner tonight!

Now in properly good mood, Westphalen pulled her white lab coat closely about herself in what she alone thought was a dignified upper-class manner. She increased both her marching speed and her complete tactlessness as she shimmied and pushed her way through the dense crowd to reach Bridger at all costs. She needed to be close to witness ( _enjoy_ ) his take-down of Lucas properly and, in case he was again being wishy-washy, be close enough to grab the older man to shout and shake some sense into his liquor addled head. Stupid men! They could never do anything right if she wasn't present to hold their hand and do their thinking for them!

Nathan Bridger entered the sea-deck at slow speed, taking the time to scan around visually to see the lay of the land and find his targets before anyone else got to them. In a miserable succession of events that could not be avoided, the captain had not been able to get a copy of **Noyce's plan to manage Lucas** into Westphalen's hands on time. The woman could not be found at the science station indicated in her online schedule. He had been able to track her down in the infirmary doing God-knows-what as it wasn't her domain and certainly not her responsibility, no matter what she said to anybody.

After his attempts to corner Kristen in the med-bay had only resulted in yet more complaints against her wanton interference and crass attempts at domination by Doctor Joseph Levine who was well passed pissed off at her ceaseless aggressive intrusions, the captain had looked at the clock and put paid to any notion of finding her in a quiet spot for a chat. The public meeting to be held prior to sending off the children back to the USA mainland was about to happen and the captain could not be late as he was the presenter.

With the symptoms of a nasty migraine making themselves known behind his ears and temples, Nathan was running on a short fuse attached to a reserve of patience that was already empty since the moment Zach had refused the order to evacuate the doomed depot with his siblings. Add to that the outright mutiny by Lucas and Cleo and the veteran sailor didn't have anymore patience to spare for the antics of the ship's _Diva of the Labs_ and her high-strung melodrama. For once, the woman was going to have to let it go and bite her nails like everybody else aboard.

Thankfully, an email came in from Bill Noyce about the entire ' _Lucas, kids, shuttles and Westphalen in a tiff_ ' situation that eased some of his concerns. The admiral _and his backers_ had never anticipated this type of rebellion, certainly not the sort of illegal behavior that was also damn dangerous to self and others in this category of idiocy. In response to the events, Bill had scaled-back many of the forbiddances in his list of disciplinary measures normally prohibited against Lucas. The new rule of thumb was that as long as the boy didn't have bruising visible on an unclothed area like his face, forearms and lower legs, it could _pass muster_ **for this situation only**.

 **Unfortunately** Nathan thought glibly, the admiral had confirmed and even reinforced the forbiddances about never leaving bleeding lesions, scarring, dislocated joints and cracked or broken bones at the end of any punishment session. **ONLY** superficial bruising in the form of belt stripes applied **LIMITEDLY** to the middle and lower back, buttocks and thighs were **TOLERABLE** and yet again, **ONLY** for **this event.** Noyce ordered that he be told the number of stripes set before the sentence was pronounced so he could decide if it was safe to proceed. If he authorized the sentence, then it would be applied in private in one of the med-bay diagnostics rooms just to be sure the kid's health could be monitored and any injuries or panic attack treated immediately. The rotund staffer specifically ordered that Bridger, Ford or Westphalen be completely removed from the actual punishment; somebody with a cool level head would be chosen to administer the strokes _or it would not happen at all_. This caveat was non-negotiable anymore. Noyce wanted his cash cow to be docile, not broken beyond any ability to produce the revenue-earning sciences and technologies that he was supposed to put out every day.

Bridger understood full-well the overall plans about Lucas. In order to remain inventive, creative and fully invested into the work ordered by the ship or Noyce, they could not punish or treat the boy in a manner that would demoralize, scare witless or injure him to the point he lost all hope of being valued as a person by the crew and admiralty. Just like an adult crewman, if he began doubting that he had value as a person and a possible future in the UEO science department upon reaching adulthood, then he would become depressed, incapable of concentrating on anything for long periods and may even decide to simply not work at anything anymore. In the worse cases foreseeable, Lucas may become despondent enough to become neglectful towards his health, stop exercising and curtail any food intake, all of which he was already not doing that much for a teenage boy of 16.

If such were to happen and the quality or quantity of work product made by Lucas began to suffer, so then would Nathan and whomever had made Lucas devolve to that state of slow-motion production and self-negligence. Should the worse happen and the boy's welfare or health actually be impacted to the point of needing medical treatment in med-bay by the actions of certain individuals, again it would be Nathan held responsible. Getting a new captain in place would take only six days or less. Noyce gave his personal guarantee as he already had seven candidates vetted and listed in order of preference, ready to deploy and step into the empty position within 24 hours of notification.

No matter how angry they all were, the kid would have to be handled with, well, _kid gloves_.

Nathan Hale Bridger was not amused. He hadn't been in good long while. Pretty much since that imbecile _gold-digging_ inspector had left with a suitcase full of the blasted proto-leviathan's glowy shit a few weeks ago. _Treasures of the Tonga Trench_ indeed! And now this.

Bheurk! He felt his stomach churning acid and his ulcers acting up again. Damn!

As the veteran mariner took place besides Lucas to better keep a weather eye on him, the teen actually took the time to pause his conversation with Cleo to look at his nominal superior. The boy made a pinched face at the sight of the older man but Nathan didn't know why as he had not even said anything nor made any gestures of any sorts yet.

Lucas was now quickly rifling through his pockets around his flannel shirt and jeans, searching for something when his face lit up like the searchlights on SeaQuest's belly. The teen offered Bridger one of his rare genuine shy smiles that few ever received while extending an arm towards the sailor. The officer saw the kid was offering him a small metallic cylinder containing round tablets in a shade of lurid teal that were obviously synthetic. Taking the tube, he read the label and saw it was a combination medicine just recently distributed throughout the UEO armed services as a stopgap measure for relieving heartburn, acid reflux, diarrhea, vomiting, vertigo, soreness of the eyes and migraine-level headaches. Each tablet contained a heavy caliber mixture of acetaminophen, ibuprofen, acetylsalicylic acid, dimenhydrinate, caffeine and enough codeine that this last ingredient alone should warrant the whole thing be available under prescription only. How had the boy gotten this?

The young man stepped close to his commanding officer and whispered quietly against the background noise of sea-deck: "I had this prescribed to me by doctor Levine three months ago when I reached the drydock for the ship's pre-launch tests. I have always had bad tension migraines about three times a month and my digestion was never stable. It's gotten worse in the last few months… I wonder why... Well, anyways, those little teal roundels have been incredible at managing the symptoms. The cause though… Well, unless I get a new job or my situation changes drastically, the cause won't go away, will it? Anyways, you can have the rest of the tube. I have another dozen in a brand new box that I haven't opened yet."

Nathan took the time to look deeply into the flint-blue eyes of the person in front of him and didn't see any guile or secondary thoughts. The boy was for all purposes the most altruistic, most selfless human aboard. That was his baseline personality and Nathan didn't think himself or another of the adults had done anything yet to make the boy change his attitude or become truly frightened of them. Hopefully the coming events would not alter the kid's character and attitude too much.

The more time passed and events moved since the initial display of rebellion, the less Bridger was comfortable with the idea of punishing the teen physically; specifically because the negative consequences were too many and not all of them could be evaluated or even foreseen. A lot of kids reacted badly, traumatically even, to corporal punishment but kept it quiet inside themselves. They acted out their humiliation, fear, resentment and rabid anger at the worse moments possible much later on when they had a clear way out of the situation to escape their punisher.

Given the many skills at cybernetics, chemistry, biochemistry, mechanics and engineering that Lucas had proven to wield with frightening efficiency, giving the kid a reason to act out worse than he had to date was not something the submariner wanted to play with. Already, in the back of his mind, Nathan had several fears gnawing at him about just what the kid's reaction would be if a sanction of strap stripes was issued against him.

The kid was capable of keeping a bland, unreadable face while at the same time programming a nuclear missile to fly out to destroy a city in Russia. The boy was fully cognizant of the potential genocide that the weapons could commit and yet he programmed their flight paths, re-programmed the new launch codes every month, and even went inside the silos to enter the missiles to do checks on the Synthium warheads as he was one of three people aboard who knew the chemical and could see if the separated precursor liquids were stable and ready to mix to finalize the actual Blue-Moon variant Synthium Isotope. A teenager who accepted the level of violence and mass murder represented by nuclear weapons to the point of actively working on their maintenance and usability should not in any ways be seen as just another kid to be bossed around and intimidated at will without remorse or consequences.

With a full hand of methods by which the young man could retaliate or damage the ship's efficiency and credibility in the eyes of Fleet Assets and the UEO Executive Cabinet, any disciplinary measures employed would need to be enacted slowly, carefully and with a very delicate hand. Especially to make certain that it was their credibility that was affected, not the crew's health or life. Lucas had almost penultimate control over the boat's life support machineries, the piloting and guidance software and the power grid management systems. If he thought for one second that conking their rep wasn't enough to pay back the pain and misery he received, all of them could end up deader than doornails sooner than they could realize it.

No; the more he thought about it all, the more Nathan was prone to shy away from corporal punishment to correct Lucas. Not because he stopped believing in the Faith and Creed of the Church. No; it was because **Lucas had the means and the character to defend himself** and retaliate powerfully with wide area solutions that Robert and 99% of children would never even be aware exist. Plainly said, unless the teenager said out loud that he wasn't afraid of or openly accepted corporal punishment as valid, Bridger now planned to steer the ship's council away from that option. **For his sanity just as much as his physical safety.** Spending months wondering when and how the retaliation would come would be a nightmare on his stress levels. The very idea he could have to forego hot showers for the rest of his time aboard ship when Lucas used the bloody water management systems against him was another point that made him reconsider the entire situation from a different, far less dominative angle.

The old sailor opened the small tube of drugs and took a single caplet as per the posology. Dry swallowing it wasn't for the best but needs must. He placed the tube in his jacket pocket, promising himself to go ask Levine about having a prescription of his own to create a stash as the young man did.

"Thank you Lucas. It will help me endure the last few hours until dinner. Maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to eat my meal and keep it down despite the pressure and the ache behind my ears."

Nathan watched as the young boy shoved his hands deeply into the front pockets of his jeans in a way that made him kinda scrunch down unto himself, head bowed down shyly, as if he were trying to become small and unobtrusive all of a sudden. Nathan realized that in fact, only himself, Kathy Hitchcock and Ben Krieg ever truly thanked or complimented the boy for his work and small acts of kindness he did to others. Ortiz, O'Neil, Shan and Crocker did too but more loosely and not in an official way. It had been almost a month since the last time he had actually taken a minute of his time to show any kind of acceptance or thankfulness for his presence and high quality work.

Damn but that could explain a lot too. Ah well, will happen what will…

The old mariner extended an arm and squeezed the teen's shoulder in a gentle, supportive gesture that startled the youth. Bridger could not help the reflexive wince he made at the sight of the child's reaction to just a little bit of affectuous physical touch. He reacted as if he'd been scalded by boiling water. Another thing to put in the ' _negative_ ' column to decide against corporal punishment. It seemed from Nathan's memory of the last two months that Lucas wasn't used to interacting physically with other people around him. In fact, the mariner could even remember telling Gator a month ago that Lucas looked isolated and lonely in the mess hall, even though it was breakfast rush and the place was overcrowded. The kid had sat in his little corner nook, in the very back of the room, alone and lonely without anybody paying him any attention.

Using **CP** on a child with so few physical experiences could end up being traumatic rather than corrective thus triggering symptoms worse than the behavior to change. Damn, couldn't the kid do things simply like the rest of humanity? _Snort!_ Of course not. He would not be invaluable and exceptional if he was simply _ordinary_ like everybody else.

The captain gestured to Crocker to stand and call for attention as he took center-place before the reporter and her cameraman. Without prompting from the officers present, Lucas had the other children standing up so he could array them around the captain with Zach herding the two boys one the left whilst Cleo, her baby sibling held in her arms, were with himself on Bridger's right side. The veteran sailor once again appreciated the young man's efficiency at carrying out tasks and his autonomy in getting things done without needing to have someone hold his hand or tell him five different ways what was needed.

Taking a slow, shallow breath to even out his pulse and his temper, Bridger waited a few seconds more before addressing the reporter, her camera and the assembled crowd. Panning his eyes rapidly across the wide room that was sea-deck, he saw that most key figures of the ship's administration were present, spread out evenly throughout the gathering. Something began niggling at the back of his mind but he attributed it to the remainders of his migraine which had been well and truly broken off as well as the effects of the extra-strong medication that was now being felt at work.

With a nod of the head, the reporter confirmed that the camera was active thusly proven by the yellow and green LED lights lit up under the lens assembly indicating the activity status of the device. The cameraman gave a friendly _thumbs-up_ to the older mariner, encouraging him to begin.

"Welcome ladies and gentlemen to our assembly this afternoon. We are gathered here to pay tribute and remember the good people who gave their lives in service to their community and sacrificed all they had to ensure the safety of their children despite the isolation and adversity they faced."

Bridger paused a few seconds as the persons settled down at the feel of the words. This was after all the memorial service for the children's parents. They were not able to save the remains from the depot and there had been only the most basic funeral that the kids had managed at the time. This was the only public memorial and formal acknowledgement of their deeds that would ever be done at this point.

Taking a deeper, steadying breath, Nathan continued while noting angrily the activity on his left side of the moonpool. Kristen Westphalen was showing again her lack of manners, tact and social graces by continuing to forcibly push her way up front towards the presenter's circle. Knowing her better after two months at sea together, Nathan did not expect her to stop at the edge of the empty space around him. No; her ego and self-importance would demand she stand next to him and be seen in the report so she could brag about being in planetary news unlike the _menials_ around them.

Sighing out his new stress, Bridger shook his head once all the while thanking the heavy dose of codeine Lucas had gifted him. The medication was helping to mellow out the nastier parts of his own temper so maybe he could process through this shindig without blowing up at either the kids or doctor.

 _Snort!_ He was such an optimist, living from hope and pious wishes like that!

"We now thank God, the Lord our Savior, for allowing these lost souls to return to our community, rather than calling them away from us so young. We are hopeful we will this time around be proven worthy of holding them in our trust, providing and educating them as they deserve. It is our hope that the few living relatives they have come forward to take them in, assisting in their recovery and social adaptation to living outside the restrictive confines of a militarized installation. At this point, I call for a moment of silence in respectful offering to the souls of our dearly departed, that they may be honored to their proper deservance."

The captain was gratified to see almost three quarters of the fifty-ish people in the sea-deck take off the head coverings they wore and bow their heads in respect. His surprise though came from around him when all the children, Lucas included, all huddled closely behind him for the moment of quiet. His displeasure at Westphalen, however kept getting worse as she chose specifically that time of remembrance to move the final few steps from the rim of the circle to reach a spot on his left, just passed Zachary and the two young brothers. Her pursed lips, squinting eyes and lab coat clenched closed over her heaving bosom were signs of an impending explosion of her nastiest temper yet. Damn!

After about two minutes of silent reflection, Cleo handed her baby brother to Lucas before stepping forward to address the crowd and reporters.

"Thank you for your presence here today. Our families appreciate the memorial to our parents more than we can express. I would like to specially thank the crewmen who braved the currents above the trench to come rescue us. They didn't really need to do that. I'm educated enough to understand that the economics and logistics of the rescue cost more than what the depot was worth at that time since it was decommissioned and abandoned as scrap. Because of that, it's even more important to thank those who saw us, ordinary kids, as being worth the time, effort and costs to come recover us. I give thanks to chief Crocker for his great patience, especially when some of us hadn't fully deserved it. I also thank our good friend Lucas for coming over at the depot at great risk to himself. He helped convince Zach to follow us back to SeaQuest instead of dying alone. He proved to my family that we could all have a life outside in the open air again, if we just tried."

Giving the crowd a shy smile, the young woman retreated to the back, recovering her infant sibling at the same time. Nathan gave the girl the gimlet eye for her parting remarks about who she thanked; neither Ford nor himself were in there and he would have some words in private with her before she left the ship. Her selective gratitude grated on his nerves the wrong way.

On the other hand, looking at Lucas with a baby in his arms was a rare treat on its own. The teenage boy seemed to loose half his age's worth of stress, anxiety and depression off his face as he gazed down at the small fragile baby that lay cradled in his arms. The baby himself seemed thoroughly entranced by the flint-blue eyes above him and followed them attentively as if all the goodness in his life came from them. Fatherhood, or at least brotherhood, seemed to agree with Lucas quite a lot.

Nathan gave his head a slow shake, dislodging the errant thoughts and feelings, trying to put order in the stress-induced, migraine-worsened chaos his mind had become over the time since his confrontation with Crocker in his cabin. Now came the dicey part: the questions from the reporter and crowd. _Oh. Joy. Is. Me._ Bridger thought sarcastically at the very thought the gathering could conclude without somebody ( _Westphalen_ ) making a mess.

"We now open the floor to questions from the public." Nathan said with a forced, factice smile that he had practiced many times over the years in close proximity to Washington DC and the Pentagon's supply chain.

The reporter asked the loaded question Nathan had dreaded to hear out loud: "Cleo, you thanked Lucas here for helping to pull Zach from the depot. We heard it was Captain Bridger going over there that was the key event that convinced him to leave. Is there some detail we don't know about?"

Cleo's entire face became closed off, her hold on the baby tightening instinctively. "Not really, other than Lucas had come aboard the depot almost a half-hour before the captain did, so all the talking was already done." She told the reporter tartly. "Zach was about to give his gun to one of the sailors and follow us willingly when Bridger came in and made a speech that wasn't needed at that point. We listened because that's the polite thing to do when you have a guest in your house." She sneered contemptuously at the camera, letting them know what she thought about said speech and its value. "I don't know what the ship's brass told you. We weren't asked our opinions and we didn't have reports to write about the events in the sphere. I can only address what happened, not the stories you were fed."

Responding to a prompt from the reporter, Zach shrugged unrepentantly. He didn't give a damn about the boat, its crew or Wolen-what's-his-name. Now that he was free of the munitions depot and the mission was cancelled, he owed these people nothing anymore. His mind was already on a technical college back in his native Maine, away from the Navy and the ocean. Frowning and making a face at the question asked by the woman with the microphone, the young adult didn't mince words. "We had already hashed out our problems between us relatives when Bridger and that guy Crocker came in behind Ford and his men. He made a dog-and-pony show that was completely a waste of time and then stood there as if he could make up my mind for me."

The adolescent shifted his weight to the other foot and rubbed under his chin with his left fist, looking put out that he had to retell all this. "We left because I wanted to and we were ready to. Whatever story the boat's people gave you was obviously worked over to erase some details they don't want public. Like the fact they had men with assault rifles, grenades and vials of sedative gas ready to storm into my house and break me to pieces so they could take me out before blowing up the sphere."

Turning his head towards Bridger to give him a glare, Zach continued unimpeded. "Nobody told us about the weakening structure, the failing mooring struts or the currents having consistently increased in the trench over the last decade way above the depot's tolerances. It was Lucas who gave me that info and made me see the place was dying. Before that, I just thought some goons with body armor wanted to kick me out of my house to scrap her to sell the metal by the pound. After I was told the heavy stuff, I understood they weren't just trying to steal away our house so I was ready to move out with the rest. If ya all heard different, it wasn't us that said it. Nobody asked my version before now."

The reporter turned her microphone and camera towards the captain "It seems to me there is more than just a difference of perspectives in what happened inside that bathysphere, captain. Would you care to elaborate or maybe even offer a rebuttal to these young people's opinions?" the woman asked in her mild urbane tone. Her brittle smile and fake politeness were fooling no one at this point.

With his migraine threatening a rabid comeback, Bridger decided that the tactical portrait of the situation would never get better but only worse if anybody opened their mouth about the nitty-gritty details. Most of the events should not have happened that way and would certainly not make their way into an official written report of any sorts. He bet you his career on it; he would certainly lose that career if it did get send up the chain to New Cape Quest!

"No my dear lady." The veteran mariner tried at her soothing her curiosity but failed completely. "We have a simple situation where the stresses of everyone combined with the inexperience of our youngest civilian worker have combined to create this skewed view of events. It will clear out in a week or two after everybody has had the chance to decompress." He attempted to move her along to another topic.

Seeing she wasn't moving from her query, Nathan decided to _put paid_ on the whole fiasco now. Bridger turned towards his wayward teenager and spoke clearly but in a softer tone of voice, with much less anger and vitriol than anybody expected him to show at this point. " **As for you, Mister Wolenczak; you are grounded.** You will have two weeks to calm down from this tumultuous day and reflect on the necessities of rules and obedience to protocols during ALL ship operations. Next time you take one of MY shuttles, you had better make sure you have MY permission _before_ turning the key!"

Since the only visible reaction from the boy was going wide-eyed in dread while biting his lower lip in absolute silence, Nathan thought this was as good as it would happen. As long as Lucas wasn't openly challenging his authority, he could afford to be publicly merciful whilst secretly adhering to Bill's list of options and forbiddances. Having the upper hand again, with a clearly pale and fearful child that very obviously had no intent of confronting or objecting, the adult decided to give the youth a bit of reprieve and support to tide him over until the actual punishment was meted out later on. Speaking in a tone of voice much closer to his normal daily habit, the officer also tried to be less _commanding_ and more _guiding_ in his demeanor so that the reporter and crew not see him as potentially dangerous towards his juvenile ward.

"Finish saying goodbye to the children then go eat in the mess hall with the other crew. I will hand out your list of restrictions and modified schedule after dinner. Go to your compartment, I will meet you there at 19:00 hours to finish this. Civilly on both our parts, I hope." Not expecting a teenaged explosion of angst or plaintive tantrum of sorts anymore, he turned back towards the people in the gathering, hoping to close this and send the blasted reporter off ship at long last.

Everybody in the crowd froze at the unexpected pronouncement as it was from _out of the left field_.

The **LEGAL PROTOCOLS** were that Bridger was supposed to **lay charges at the council** then, after the person's defense was presented and debate was completed, the captain would receive back the written judgment and sentence suggestions **BEFORE** acting against **ANY** civilian aboard, especially the most vulnerable one that they had.

The fact that the legality of the teen's presence inside a fully enabled WARSHIP nor his heavy workload had **NEVER** **been explained or established publicly** to the satisfaction of anyone in the command chain or amongst the civilian contractors still poisoned relations in the ward room when council convened.

This situation would no longer be tolerated by the council members, of which only three were actually on Bridger's side of the fight: Ford, Westphalen and lieutenant Labrie who was the supposed nominal systems operator / cyber security expert for the ship. They needed a legally adult-aged contractor or an officer in the Navy to actually sign work tickets and purchases of parts since Lucas was clearly NOT of age, enlisted or commissioned and wasn't even supposed to be aboard at all.

This meant that if _push came to shove_ and the truth of Noyce's involvement with the occult backing and finances of his church-group, it was probable that this third councilor would defect and side with Lucas. It was essentially the child's place he was holding until he achieved legal majority or a written contract of services so the man had no real loyalty to anybody but himself. In fact, he had every incentive to cooperate with Lucas and any investigators coming aboard to avoid career-ending charges, perhaps even jail time if all went bad enough from high enough.

The crowd saw Lucas exchange a discrete forlorn look with Cleo, while at the same time shoving his hands deeper into his pockets, lowering his head in submission, not giving any sign of challenge or questioning the decision handed out so publicly. Swallowing painfully past the lump in his throat, he blinked his eyes rapidly to clear out the wetness before it gathered enough to form tears large enough to fall visibly. Lucas tried to give Cleo a fake smile of encouragement that he would be okay. It didn't work all that well, but he could not do more anyways. Opting for silence to save what was left of his reputation as a dependable worker as well as his hide and health at this point, the teen scrunched down onto himself, trying to disappear without moving until he was dismissed with the crowd.

Most of the people in the crowd were not satisfied by what they saw at all. The young man had just been humiliated, quite literally pissed on by a barking old mutt attempting to prove his maleness to himself, in front of the entire crew **PLUS** the **WHOLE WORLD** as the camera was rolling and the TV station would certainly not cut this out. The mainstream media, especially the right-of-center ones like FOX NEWS, just adored scandals and any situation where an overly intelligent, highly achieving teenager was pulled back and shamed always went straight to the screen to be bandied around.

The religious groups especially, be they christians, muslims, jews or whatnot, all hated adolescents with a passion and always made great **'teachable moments'** out of the fall, put down and comeuppances of any teenager that happened to be like Lucas. After all, it was specifically these highly educated, highly performant, wealthy, well connected and worse of all atheist adolescents who were the most likely to discover the REAL TRUTH about Cult and Creed and leave the Sect they had been born in. The worse threat any preacher ever faced was a rebellious teen asking questions as that age group was actually old enough to think, discern truth from parables and lies, and big enough to fight back against beatings and imprisonment when the clerics tried to bring them low.

This kind of juicy scandalous rebel-kid going out-of-bounds and out-of-laws was bread and butter for the media and they would all gleefully circulate Lucas's public shaming around the entire globe inside of 24 hours or less, depending on the traffic on the networks' servers.

Silently but surely, several persons began walking through the crowd towards the presenter's circle to be accounted and publicly stop then question this decision as was their job. THIS would not stand, even if it might be _defendable from a parental standpoint_. Until the **legal underpinnings** and **contract details** of Lucas being here were established out and notarized, **ANY** _discipline would be discussed and delivered via the ship's council or not at all_ ; notwithstanding Bill Noyce's lofty plans or Bridger's pride-driven anger.

As the members of the council, all present for the memorial as was the duty of their jobs, positions and ranks, walked towards Bridger and Lucas to initiate the debate on the problem the captain had just dropped on them, another mess arose to take the spotlight from all others.

In an explosion of bile, rancor and scorn, Kristen Westphalen publicly detonated the worst temper tantrum that any adult in the room had ever seen another adult do. She came at Bridger with her hands flying all around in agitated anger, arms milling about frenetically in complete loss of self-control. That she was in emotional melt-down was no longer in doubt when her shrewish voice rose, spewing forth toxic contempt for Lucas, Nathan, Jonathan and Manilow all at once.

"How dare you! How in the bloody _Hells Everburning_ dare you! This boy is a thieving scoundrel, an indocile rabble-rouser and mutinous delinquent of the worse, lowest borne class ever to be suffered by people of decent breeding and good mores! And this is what you do in response to his criminalities? Some vacation time in his room with a server to bring his meals so he doesn't accidentally scuff his shoes on the deck while making an effort at moving his lazy carcass about for a change? What kind of idiotic, nitwitted anti-logic is this? He rebelled against **ADULTS**! He rebelled against **ADULT AUTHORITY**! He deliberately set out to steal, misuse and abuse the property of the UEO for no better reason than _a joyride to impress this back-alley floozie_ who wasn't even honest enough to be grateful to those who saved her life! How in **All That's Right, decent and civilized** can you just stand there and say blithely **'you're grounded'** as if that settles anything or makes him pay for anything? What kind of punishment is that?"

Chest heaving in effort and rage, her green eyes alight with malice and pleasure at laying a good put-down on the uppity boy, Kristen once again gathered the folds of her lab coat and clenched them tightly over her heart, striking a pose she imagined was quite fetching and superior. She was so busy sneering her contempt at Lucas and barking her vile bitchings at Bridger that she never saw the diverse looks of contempt, scorn and derision sent at her back. Given her hyped up state, she would have thought it was all aimed at the children or Bridger anyways; she could not fathom anybody of _proper pedigree_ having anything but the utmost deferent respect for her vaunted station in science, society and life. Before anybody recovered enough from her verbal broadside to answer, she turned her vicious verbosity towards the secondary targets, hoping to motivate some response that would better fit her views and desires for the situation's resolution.

"Commander Ford! I say! Will you just stand there when this mere slip of a boy commits treason, mutiny and rebellion of the crassest kind right before us all? Aren't you going to make a man of yourself and lay some right and proper stripes on his hide so that the **scars** remind him of his obligations of docility, obedience and submission to all adults as long as he is an under-aged minor? What weak-willed sissyness is this? And you, Crocker! You are the constabulary of this ship! You are the one charged with keeping the peace in the halls of this barge! Or is it in truth a garbage scow that peace and orderliness not matter? Why is this detritus of society allowed here during a social event when he should be locked in the brig, shaved in shame and clad in prison orange? You are the village police, not a kindergarten watcher! Why do you allow this larcenous, thieving vandal to walk the halls without shackles and guards to keep the animalesque sub-human from attacking his betters?"

Taking a deep breath to fill her chest to bursting, the mature woman cast out her arms, spread wide so as to take more space in a simplistic attempt at keeping all attention on herself and her vendetta. She still hadn't looked at the crowd behind her but erroneously took the silence as approval for her cause.

" **PUNISHMENTS!** For all three of these ill-mannered, ill-bred, spawn of scum! I want punishments! _The kind that leaves marks and scars_ so they can remember to submit and obey! **WE** are ADULTS! **WE** command and **THEY** obey _in silence_! Are there any **real MEN** in this tin can ready to show what real adult men can do to insure the law and order of society when **CHILDREN** dare to try to think by themselves? Is there anyone anymore on this ship who hasn't been reduced to a simpering weak simpleton? **I COMMAND YOU!** Stand forth and show these budding rebels the cost of challenging adults!"

As she was stood there right in front of the camera, basking in the attention and she thought, awestruck admiration for her powerful delivery of authority, morality and leadership, chief Crocker moved to stand besides Lucas while forcibly pushing Bridger aside and away from all the children. The two older siblings were also moving to stand together for mutual protection.

Cleo now looking desperately for someone to hold little baby Roman safely in case all this madness exploded into violence. She certainly wasn't going to let some dumb bitch in heat have her whipped raw in public just to satisfy the baser urges from the heat bloom between her legs! If the woman couldn't control herself and wasn't desirable enough to find a willing partner aboard, she should just wait to reach the mainland shore and pay herself a male whore like any other high-powered officer or corporate type did.

Zachary went red and upped exponentially the stupid female doctor's rage by taking a sharpened length of steel from the back pocket of his jeans. The homemade knife was 9 inches long overall, four in the handle and five in the wicked two-sided blade. He pushed his pseudo-siblings behind him and pointed the dark grey blade straight at Westphalen's nose, while pulling out from under his ratty shirt and gripping in his left hand another home crafted weapon: a fist protector, the poor man's version of brass knuckles. Then he attacked verbally, showing he had nothing but contempt for the woman and her hyped up sense of self-importance.

"Yo, biiitttch! Ya wanna piece o' me an' mine!" the 18 years old boy called out loud. "Come at me! Le'ss'ee if you got the balls to back your poison, whore, and I'll cut e'm off ya! And don't you call Cleo any kinda floozie, bimbo or what else! At least, she got where she is in a hard life honestly, not on her knees with her mouth open and her eyes closed like you did, cocksucker! And ain't that a miracle of darkness! I never thought I'd see the day a broad easy-cunt like you could be so toxic and despicable even the mutilated folk lying asleep in a coma would shy away from yo' touch rather than get some o' you, even if you did all the work for free cuz you such a cheap slut!"

Bridger was looking at the crassly insulting boy mouth agape, unwilling to believe a simple teenager devoid of any real education or skills would have the nerve, or courage, to stand up to Kristen Westphalen and call her out on the mat for a blood feud. And he had weapons, too! WTF! The world had just gone mad! The older man was so dumbstruck by both the doctor's sudden childish temper tantrum and the kids' responses that he was mentally paralyzed, frozen still as his mind tried to grasp and then process everything that was happening. It would take several seconds too long and by then he would have lost control of the ship, crew and situation forever.

Jonathan Ford shook his head despondently. He had lost his entire case against Lucas in one fell swoop because the idiotic she-dog just couldn't keep herself from barking at the worse possible moment she could find in the entire day. With this outburst in public, even the most conservative members of the ship would balk at even the mildest sanctions against Lucas, thus making even the idea of grounding him to his room or the brig a lost cause. Forget using the options Noyce had finally allowed. If that particular list came to light, him and Bridger would need to launch themselves out of the torpedo tubes to escape the wrathfulness of all the people who actually called themselves friends to Lucas. Even the moderates would become incensed and demand the high officers' blood before going after Noyce and his church-group.

Katherine Hitchcock was incensed, rabid and seeing everything in tones of red. How dare that stupid headless chicken strut around fluffing her feathers and shitting all over her crew and home like that in a moment of serene memory! Did she not have any sense of morality and decency at all? Who did she think she was to COMMAND punishments against anybody in the boat? She had no right! She was only the head of civilian scientists in charge of guiding the corporate contractors during their projects and report-writing at the end of said projects. She didn't have any structural posting nor any actual authority past her right to refuse to sign a report she thought was badly composed or had been falsified to get more time or money than was wise to spend on a specific subject. Here she was again parading in public while saying she had jobs, postings, ranks and powers she was NEVER given at all by anybody! Not even Bill Noyce in all his corruption and depravity would ever be suicidal enough to give the woman real materially effective powers! Who did she think she was conning now? As for punishments against Lucas that left scars, she had just showed her true face, her profound nature to the entire ship and the world around to boot. Let's see how she swam out of that typhoon, for a change!

Manilow Crocker shook his head despondently, almost depressed in truth. The worse he had feared had come to pass. With Nathan calming down and rolling back all his bile to the point of just giving the kid some time out in his room with a few extra chores here and there, Gator had hoped that they could finish this mess inside of a few days and put it all behind them. He had actually dared to hope for a minute that he wouldn't have to raise a hand against his old academy buddy yet, if he truly stayed away from physically harming Lucas like he seemed dead-set earlier in the day. Now, though, with the sewer-crawling crud Westy havin' opened her trap, everything was going to the pits… Now they were going to see just how angry, vengeful and maliciously hurtful their teenaged slave laborer could really become. Wound an animal, put him in a corner and surround him with baying blood hounds, see what you get…

The members of the ship's council all signaled each other by hand and face then stepped forward as one, making a half-ring around the front of the moonpool. The leader called out loud at the top of his lungs, making all other noise cease. The person which had been elected as civilian leader and counterpart to the captain, the ship's beloved doctor Joseph Levine, chief of human medicine, surgery and pharmacy, directed a steady, intentful eye towards Zachary who held his gaze for five long seconds before hiding his weapons back under his clothes then shoving his hands in his pockets. The doctor gave the young man a thankful nod before moving his focus back to the lurid mess in front of them all.

"Ahem!" the old medic called out "Ahem! People, soldiers and civilians alike! We have a grave situation here that has the potential to degenerate into grievous rioting if it continues! I ask you that you let the ship's council have the time to do its job and investigate all complaints and accusations before you react violently out of emotional transports rather than thoughtful reflection." The veteran healer gazed around the sea-deck and held many a person's eye for a few seconds, calming boiling spirits by his sheer presence and stability amidst the turmoil.

Turning to the captain, the doctor waved his hands at either side of him and spoke plainly "We have all the members of the council, officers and civilians, assembled in the room who all heard the rather inflammatory accusations that were launched quite unprofessionally and almost defamatorily against Lucas and others. We have also heard you trample over Lucas as a person and the most basic protection given to any civilian abroad; the right to be heard and judged by the council, not navy officers alone or courts martial under military law. I offer you a chance to bring your complaints formally before us as is the LAW or else I will issue a decree to bar the application of your decisions on Lucas until we reach land and have the US Federal Courts decide on his true employment status, after of course the US Family Courts declare whether it was legal and legitimate to place him aboard at all. It is your call, captain; decide wisely for the council speaks of one mind on this and we are no longer inclined to tolerate the lies of Noyce's and his cultists."

Before Bridger, Westphalen of anybody else could speak, let alone move, Lucas stepped forward cautiously and fearfully raised his head to look at Levine with wide eyes. The two simply stood in silence for several seconds; Levine trying to divine what the gentle-souled teenager was thinking whilst Lucas himself was trying to evaluate what the older man's position was in this passed the defense of the council's jurisdiction and power. Whatever he thought he saw in the jewish healer's eyes, it didn't prevent the visible shiver of fear from sliding down his spine or the reflex to back a step away and sideways, separating himself from all the adults and other children.

Once again in his poor life, Lucas stood alone against all comers.

"Forgive me for speaking without permission, elder Levine." began the fearful adolescent "but I don't believe that the council, even under your guidance, has enough power and authority to keep the criminals from committing their debaucheries no matter what edicts and judgments you would publish. They, specifically Ford and Westphalen, have never given any credence to your elected position or to the council as a whole. As for Bridger, he's been beyond redemption for decades, his son, wife, brother and last living relatives can all attest to this. Also, the captain dances to a tune only William Noyce hears and understands; there are plans and machinations about my life and presence aboard being set in motion from out of the Pentagon and NCQ that nobody is truly aware of but Noyce and his sect."

Everybody hung on the child's words, mesmerized that he actually spoke in public, taking the center of attention and demanding the right to be heard instead of melting into the background as he normally did. This was important, even the people most opposed to his freedom and autonomy awaited with bated breath what the boy would come up with next. He normally surprised everyone with his deep thoughts and well reflected logic, this would be profound.

Biting his lower lip in anxiety, looking fearfully around the entire sea-deck in the hope of spotting at least a few sympathetic faces, Lucas knew he could not hold back any longer. If he wanted to walk out of this ship alive, healthy, uninjured and with a clear reputation, he needed to speak now or accept being Noyce's victim for however long his life lasted. Just like Robert and Carol Bridger had suffered.

"I offer you my most sincere apologies for what I must do next, elder Levine; to you and the members of the council, be they the nominal posts of the officers or the civilians elected by the corporate contractors who live in our community." Lucas wiped his sweaty hands on the sides of his jeans' legs, clearly ill-at-ease with what he had planned. "After witnessing the events in this great hall, hearing the threats of inhuman punishments, torture really, that were demanded against me and others, and with knowledge of events outside the ship, in the dark backrooms of corrupt people who claim a power they have no right to hold before the Law of Humanity…"

The teen raised his pale, trembling hand to the ceiling, closing his eyes in fear of what he would unleash, the young man cleared his throat and shouted out the words that would seal his fate and probably bar him from ever sailing any seafaring ship again.

The boy called out in a yell from deep inside his heart **"I call the THING to assemble!"**

Immediately the derisive scornful laughter of Westphalen exploded over the assembly. She obviously didn't realize what was happening as she asked incredulously "What **THING**? The brain you don't have? The docile demeanor you should have maintained? Pffft!" The wide smile on her face may have felt like triumph to her but just looked self-serving and arrogantly uncouth to all others.

Lucas called out again "With my life in danger from wrathful officers who follow not the **Law of Humanity** as they plan tortures and destruction on my body; **I call the THING to assemble!** "

Bridger grabbed both sides of his head as he folded over in misery from the onslaught of his migraine, trying desperately to remember what that all meant. It was a point of the **Old Law of the Seas** that had been re-written in _modern language_ in the new **Maritime Laws of the United Nations** which were then simply copied at the onset of the UEO. For the life of him he couldn't remember what exactly but his gut feeling was that this was important and could scuttle his position as captain, his career, pension and even reach up to harm Noyce as well. What was he missing? What was this **THING** that he knew it was important but couldn't manage to drag up the details from the depths of his medication addled mind?

Lucas called out anew, crying freely his tears of fear and misery in front of the whole crew and world through the camera's lense "With my lost soul set adrift on turpid waters by dark masters in cloaked churches who presume to make a _good ship_ sink into the maelstrom of Evil, devoid of help or guidance for my poor spirit; **I call the THING to assemble!** "

Jonathan Ford and Katherine Hitchcock exchanged a deep glance, eyes locked in silent battle as they both remembered this particular point of the ship's charter. If the captain or the council were corrupted beyond any capacity for humanity to tolerate or had lost any hope of ever returning within the bounds of either the **UEO Law** or the **Old Law of the Seas** , then any living person aboard could invoke **The Thing** and beg the crew for **Mercy, Redress or Leavetaking**. With matching slow nods of their heads, the two senior-most officers under the captain agreed to let this play out and speak their piece during their proper turn. No sense devolving to mutiny or civil war when the child had just handed them all a golden opportunity to settle things legally and properly in public, without any secrets anymore.

Lucas called out hoarsely with his right fist raised to the sky in defiance as the tears streamed down his face unabated "With our ship's crew set astray from the **Law of Humanity** in lurid dreams of easy power through enslavement and dominance of defenseless, abandoned children; **I call the THING to assemble!** "

Manilow Crocker made his declaration as simply as he had lived his life and his naval career: he stepped up to Lucas from behind him and placed both hands on the teen's thin bony shoulders, showing publicly and without any possible doubts who he was backing in the coming events. Whatever happened, when the conflicts came to a head as they were bound to do, Crocker thought Lucas would be in the right enough to come out neither a criminal nor a rebel. He would be vindicated against all accusers and probably be free as well, something Gator wished for the kind, altruistic boy more than any other outcome. His gesture saw the crowd temporarily stunned to silence for about three or five seconds before a furor of sound overtook the sea-deck as new conversations, arguments and loud protests about not wasting time listening to rebellious children erupted even worse than before. Manilow was happy; most of the phrases he could overhear in the cacophony were encouraging for the stance and solution Lucas had proposed. Now, time and arguments would tell.

Lucas called out one last plea to the crowd, begging them with all he was and had still to save, shouting out more strongly than all other times before despite the raw throat and being almost blinded by his flowing tears "With the most fundamental of all our officers having given himself to _Evil Unrepentant_ … To alcohol, the worst of all mistresses… To the basest crassest brutality… To criminalities multiple and without frontiers… _To the Betrayal of his own Blood!..._ And now after all that… Because he has finally cast aside the **LAW OF THE SEAS** thus forsaking his claim to this _good ship_ and the hearts of those _good men_ who sail inside; **I call the THING to assemble!** "

The noise from the shouting, yelling, arguing, verbally jostling crowd was overpowering in its incredible storm of words, emotions, gestures and feelings openly exposed all at once without any remaining inhibitions from any part of the crawling, roiling, seething mass of humanities. Until one voice was heard to scream above all others, more powerful than the capharnaum in the great hall by use of the public address system, set on maximal strength and to broadcast across all decks and compartments of the SeaQuest's majestic girth.

With bone-deep weariness, soul-warping doubts and many fears niggling at the back of his conscience, the venerable ship's master had finally remembered what the articles of Law were about and knew that now he could no longer bring this mess into a closed room to settle it privately. And those like Westphalen or Ford or even Noyce and his cultists, they would all wish they had never threatened the slightly built, pale-skinned child with the wheat-blond hair and flint-blue eyes. Everybody in the chain of command would rue this day as it was written in blood in the Ship's Log.

"I, Nathan Hale Bridger, Master of the SeaQuest, her designer and builder, captain by the **Law of the Seas,** nominated to my position by the USA Naval Service then loaned out to the UEO Navy have heard the pleas for **Mercy** and **Redress** that emanate from my _good men_. I understand that my views have caused you to drown in doubts. I can see that my actions and orders have led to sentiments of fear and made a few select people believe they would be hurt, injured or even killed under my **Watch**. I also, finally, come to understand and come to terms with, that the situation of Lucas in our Community cannot any longer be as it is or else we risk drifting into **Perdition** , away from the **Law of the Seas**. In so, as I heard the Pleas that were Called by my crew, my officers and my civilian workers… **I call the THING to assemble!** "

"As it was in the **Old Days** , let all beings able to express their name and position aboard ship clearly, in speech, writing or sign language, come forth and _Gather_ for the **THING**! We convene here, in this hall, at the dinner bell. I will have food and drink brought. We will take chairs and benches from where we need and settle these grievances and accusations as we all stand before our Mother the Sea; together. For if we are not united in purpose and action when at large, away from the safety of the harbor and guiding lights, then we are already adrift and sinking to Perdition, into the arms of the squids."

All the sailors aboard, wherever they were and all civilians except one miserably angry, spiteful and vindictive doctor shouted as one voice, one community united **"We call the THING!"**


End file.
